


Dilemma

by Lindenharp



Series: Changes!verse [5]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-21
Updated: 2010-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindenharp/pseuds/Lindenharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team TARDIS lands on an alien spaceship that is close to destruction. Before the crisis is over, they'll have to make some painful choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He looks up and down the smoke-filled corridor, trying not to think of Gallifrey. _Stop_ _ditherin' an' get your mind out of the past_. Rescue will be easy enough: just run to the far end of the doomed Ikridu ship, gather up an unconscious human, and run to the safety of the TARDIS. Easy as falling off a log. All he has to do is decide which of his companions will be left to die: Rose or Jack.

*****

At first it seems that -- once again -- disaster has been averted by Time Lord genius and human ingenuity. Captain Trelk of _Ikrid's Valour_ is interrogating his three alien 'stowaways' when Jack notices the slight irregularity in the thrum of the ship's engines. It takes only a few minutes for the Doctor to find the flaws in the power conduits; a few minutes longer to decide that the deterioration is unstoppable. Even a complete engine shutdown will not prevent a massive explosion.

"But we can delay it," he tells the gobsmacked captain cheerfully. "Me an' Jack can rig up a few hypothermic power dampers. Temporary reversal of polarity to the neutron flow, an' that'll buy enough time for all the lifepods to get clear of the ship."

Rose organises the evacuation with a brisk authority that reminds him of Tegan in full air-hostess mode. "Sorry, you can't go back to your cabin to get your souvenirs from Delta Omega IV. No, I don't know how much they cost, and I don't care. Move along."

The jiggery-pokery is completed just as Captain Trelk boards the last lifepod. It takes some blunt words to persuade him to leave. "You're of no use here, so shove off. We've got work to do." The dampers need to be positioned at equidistant points around the ship, and with the clock ticking, the job has to be done quickly. Like the rest of his species, Trelk moves with the speed of an arthritic snail. He takes one mournful last look at his ship and closes the hatch of the lifepod behind him.

If _Ikrid's Valour_ had been a larger vessel, setting out the dampers in time would be an impossible task. The TARDIS trio divide the sectors of the ship between them, sprinting along the deserted corridors. As soon as his jury-rigged control device shows that all of the dampers are in place, the Doctor keys in the activation sequence. The blue indicator lights begin to blink: Flash-FLASH, flash-FLASH, flash-FLASH. The simple synchopated pattern reminds him of a human heartbeat; a rhythm he finds oddly comforting these days.

Time to get back to the TARDIS and rendezvous with his companions. The perpetual clock in his head tells him they have enough time, plus a safety margin. Still, he'll feel better once they're in the Vortex. He's scarcely started moving when he hears a muted bang, followed by the shrill whine of an alarm, then the loud hiss of the fire suppressant system. He ignores the grey mist that fill the corridor -- a mostly harmless combination of smoke and fire suppressant chemicals. Then he catches a faint whiff of a sweet odour, something like licorice.

He spits out a curse. The noise must've been a breach in the coolant pipes. That licorice scent is alpha-dicadmolene -- a gas deadly to humans -- and the efficient ventilation system is carrying it all over the ship.

*****

He runs through the calculations once again: his companions' last known locations; how fast they can run; when the poison-tainted air will reach them; and how soon they will become dizzy, then unconscious. The numbers refuse to change. He has only enough time to locate one of his companions, carry the senseless human back to the TARDIS, and administer the antidote. Even if the damned ship takes much longer than it ought to explode, the Doctor's other companion will be dead before he can come to the rescue. It is impossible to save them both.

He slams a fist against the nearest bulkhead. "I'll find some other way. I'm the Doctor. I don't accept 'impossible'. I do the impossible every bloody day an' twice on Sundays." He curses fate, the Ikridu, the shipyard that built this deathtrap, the crooked inspectors that let it launch, and the witless crew who didn't notice the flaw in their own engines until a stranger pointed it out.

Use the TARDIS to get from one end of the ship to the other? No. As soon as he dematerialises, the fluctuation of energies will kill the damper circuit, and _Ikrid's Valour_ will explode. Stop the coolant leak? Shut down the ventilators? Not enough time. There are emergency airmasks all over the ship, but they're made to fit the wide ursine faces of the Ikridu; they won't seal tightly enough to protect humans from toxic fumes. He runs through a dozen more ideas, discarding each one. Time elapsed since the coolant leak: 12.4 seconds.

He stares at the roiling grey clouds filling the corridor, and Gallifrey looms in his mind. He hasn't been faced with such a painful choice since the War. In some ways, ending the Time War was easier. It was total destruction -- he hadn't been forced to decide who would live and who would die. He hadn't worried about making explanations to anguished survivors. Hell, he hadn't expected to survive himself.

Images flit though his mind with painful clarity: Rose, pink tongue caught between her teeth as she concentrates on picking the lock of a prison cell; laughing in delight at the giant singing butterflies of Mela'ai'tsao; facing Gelth and Slitheen and gas-mask zombies with defiant courage. Jack, hunched beneath the TARDIS console, his clever fingers coaxing a wire into place; stepping between Rose and a Xoric warrior, his only weapons a fierce glare and a non-functioning blaster; leaping, naked and whooping like a maniac, from a second-floor balcony into the Grand Canal on Nuova Venezia. He can see them, running beside him from (or towards) danger; joyously shedding doubts and clothing, on the day the three of them sealed their partnership; sprawled in bed, sweaty and loose-limbed with contented exhaustion.

He rages at the Universe: _I can't do this! Might as well give me a knife and tell me to cut out one of my hearts_. No matter which companion he chooses, he's going to lose them both; one to death, and the other to grief and anger. The survivor won't forgive him, any more than he'll forgive himself. _Get on with it!_ Time elapsed since the coolant leak: 14.9 seconds. He turns towards the aft of the ship and begins to run.


	2. Chapter 2

Returning to the TARDIS, he's glad his companion is unconscious. Draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes -- and bouncing as he runs -- is not the best position for a human with alpha-dicadmolene poisoning. Dizziness and nausea are among the early symptoms. He's still moving as he unlocks the TARDIS door, and he slams it shut behind him, mentally apologising to his ship for the insult. She understands; the response he gets back is acceptance with hint of worry.

Entering the medbay, he carefully transfers his companion to an exam table, then turns to the drug synthesiser. At least he doesn't have to waste time analysing an unknown toxin. It takes 43.6 agonizing seconds for the antidote to be ready. As soon as he administers it, he reaches for a nasal cannula. The antidote by itself is enough to counter the poison, but oxygen will help relieve some of the after-effects.

As if on cue, his patient stirs and coughs feebly. "Doctor?"

"I'm here. Don't try to talk -- you'll strain your throat."

A shaky hand reaches up to touch the nasal cannula. "Wha' happened?"

"There was a coolant leak. The stuff isn't good for your puny human lungs, but the medicine I gave you will fix them up, right as rain. In an hour or so, you can chatter as much as you like. For now, I want you to rest an' be quiet."

"Did we... in time?"

"Shush," he scolds gently. "Yeah, we did it. They all got off safely."

Despite an obedient nod, his patient rasps out one more question. "Jack?"

"He's fine." It's a wonder the lie doesn't stick in his throat and choke him, but he can't tell her the truth now. Later. When she's feeling better. She's not ready to hear it and he's not ready to say it.

He can see that she has more questions, but the medicine and her weakened condition send her into a light sleep. Just as well. Now that he knows she'll be all right, he has obligations to his other companion.

The TARDIS scanners confirm that there are no life signs on board _Ikrid's Valour_. Should he retrieve the-- should he bring Jack inside the TARDIS? Have some sort of ritual? On Gallifrey – and few worlds loved ritual more than Gallifrey – the ceremonies had all centered around the transfer of memories to the Matrix. Disposal of the flesh was a quieter, more practical affair. After all, a body was only a garment for the mind, to be replaced every few centuries when it wore out.

"Funerals are meant to comfort the living," Sarah Jane told him once. He supposes that's true for short-lived species like humans. Would it comfort Rose to have some sort of human ceremony? Maybe… but she'd want to see Jack, say goodbye. _Best not._ End-stage alpha-dicamolene toxicity does some ugly things to the body. Mottled skin, bleeding eyes, bloating… _Definitely not. _He can't save her from grief, but he can make sure that her last memories of Jack aren't tainted.

He remembers their visit to the Glass Pyramid of San Kloon. Jack started reminiscing about a trip he'd taken in his Time Agent days, to see the pyramid of Khafre under construction. "All that work, years of those people's lives wasted, just to store a dead body."

Laughing, Rose asked, "So, what do you fancy when your time comes? Sunny spot in a churchyard with a marble angel?"

Jack made a lewd remark about angels, and what he'd prefer to do with one. Then he turned serious. "Nah. There was this vid I loved when I was young. Must've watched it a million times: 'The Sea Raiders'. At the end, their chieftain dies. They put his body on a ship – a sailing ship, made of wood – set it on fire and sent it out to sea." And he grinned. "Now, that's what I call going out in a blaze of glory."

_Right, Captain. This'll be your funeral ship, your blaze of glory. You deserve more, but this is what I can give you.  
_  
And Rose? What can he do for her? Very little. He can take her to Gahui Station, the deep space transfer port that is the lifepods' destination. Let her see that some good came out of this disaster. And then, he should bring her home to Earth, to London, to her mother. It's what she needs. It's where she'll want to be. Maybe it's where she should stay.

She won't blame him, not consciously. Rose Tyler, who showed compassion to a Dalek, won't look at him with accusation in her eyes. She'll be kind. But every time she looks at him, she'll be seeing the empty space beside him.

_It should have been me -- the old, worn-out relic of a dead planet. Not Jack, boilin' over with life an' energy._ Swaggering, cocksure Captain Jack Harkness, almost always the first to crack a bad joke, rush into danger, or coax his lovers into bed.

_The Universe is unfair. Knew that already, thanks. Didn't need another reminder._ He dematerialises the TARDIS and reappears a second later in space, hovering at a safe distance from the ship. Someone should watch, be a witness to this final moment. He forces himself to look at the monitor as the brilliant white fireball flares, shrinks, and disappears. Very little debris is left. The engines on _Ikrid's Valour_ may have been unstable, but they didn't lack for power. Haltingly, he recites a short phrase that he hasn't used since the fall of Arcadia. He speaks it out loud, though there's no one to hear him, and no one who could possibly understand it, any road.

He keeps the TARDIS in the Vortex until he's sure of Rose's recovery. When she wakes, he gives her a drink of water, and she thanks him in a voice that's only a little bit hoarse. "I feel better. Dunno why I'm so tired."

"That's 'cos your body is usin' most of its energy for recuperation. Best thing for you, Rose Tyler, is to take a nap." She starts to protest, but drifts back into sleep before she can finish her sentence.

He sets coordinates for Gahui Station, aiming for the time when the lifepods should be arriving. Part of him doesn't give a damn whether the Ikridu docked safely or flew into the nearest sun. Another part wants to be sure that the rescue succeeded, that Jack's death accomplished _something_. The TARDIS materialises in a corridor off of the main concourse of the station. He slips out, just for a quick look around. Rose is still sleeping, and he doesn't want to go far.

An information terminal in the concourse offers him a list of arrivals and departures, but these are all scheduled flights. Switching to news mode, he discovers that the lifepods arrived at Gahui two days ago. The bulletin says little about the destruction of _Ikrid's Valour_, but it does confirm that all of the passengers and crew survived. No mention of alien stowaways. _There's gratitude for you.  
_  
He turns in a slow circle to scan his surroundings. There are plenty of Ikridu about, though none he recognises from the ship. Three-quarters of the way through his rotation, he freezes, and his hearts nearly freeze as well. There's a cafe at the edge of the concourse, the sort that sells overpriced food to travelers who value convenience over edibility. A dark-haired human is sitting at a small table, sipping at a fizzy, frothy beverage. He's wearing a black-and-silver outfit in an unfamiliar style, but he's definitely Captain Jack Harkness.

_Jack!_ He almost shouts it out loud, but checks himself. This can't be _his_ Jack. His Jack is nothing but dust and memories. It must be a Jack Harkness from earlier in his timeline, before he met the Doctor and Rose in 1941 London. It's not too farfetched. Gahui Station is a major transfer point for this sector. It would be surprising if Jack _hadn't_ visited here sometime, whether as a Time Agent or a con-man. Seeing him now is just a cruel coincidence, another kick in the teeth from an indifferent Universe.

He feels a mad impulse to go over to the cafe, order a drink, and sit at a nearby table. Not to talk, no. Just to look, to watch that beloved face for a little while longer. He won't do it, of course. He knows better. _Can't let him see me. Jack in 1941 didn't recognise me. Don't want to mess up the timelines, create a paradox._

"Doctor!" The voice behind him is human, female, stamped with the accent of South London. Right now, it's the last voice that he wants to hear. He turns, intending to grab Rose, shut her gob, and take her back to the TARDIS (by force, if necessary). Even if the timelines aren't threatened, he can't let her see the other Jack. The truth is going to be harsh enough without twisting the knife in the wound.

Rose -- bleary-eyed but otherwise looking much better -- is running towards him. Her expression is half-smile, half-reproof. She's going to scold him for leaving the TARDIS without her. Then she's looking past him, and her face lights up like a thousand supernovas. "Jack!"


	3. Chapter 3

He whirls around to see Jack Harkness rise from his seat so quickly that his table overturns, spilling the rest of his frothy drink on the floor. The counterman and a few customers shout angrily, but Jack pays no attention. He's running headlong towards the Doctor and Rose, and the light on his face says that he recognises them.

Jack and Rose collide in a joyful tangle of arms while the Doctor stares. _Impossible. Can't be._ Rose buries her face in Jack's shirt. "You weren't there when I woke up. The Doctor said you were fine, but I wanted to see you. You two blokes should've waited for me 'stead of sneaking out."

The two blokes exchange looks. The Doctor's glance says, _What the hell happened, Captain?_

Jack's steady gaze replies_, Not now._ His eyes flicker down to the woman in his arms. _Not in front of Rose._

He nods. _Later... but as soon as possible. _

'As soon as possible' is several hours later. They can't get away for more than a few minutes without making Rose suspicious, and this is _not_ a conversation he wants to have in the male visitors' hygienic facility. Rose is back to her usual energetic self, dragging them in and out of little shops that sell trinkets and souvenirs and fripperies. When she finally tires of it, he and Jack are loaded down with her bags and parcels. _The_ _Destroyer of Worlds, turned into a shopping trolley. _He can't deny Rose her fun after what almost happened today. Not that _she_ knows it. Her memories of the last half hour aboard _Ikrid's Valour_ are blurry, thanks to the toxin. She still thinks that Jack came to Gahui Station with them on the TARDIS.

Jack laughs and banters as if it's any ordinary day. He leads them into a H'grex noodle shop, flirts outrageously with their reptilian server, and coaxes Rose into trying a dish that she describes as looking like "fat blue worms". He shows her how to use the H'Grex noodle tongs, and she soon gets the knack of it.

It's one hour, seven minutes, and thirty-eight seconds before they walk into the TARDIS. He moves them into the Vortex, but doesn't set a destination. _Later_. Luckily for what's left of his sanity, Rose announces her need for a "proper shower". That means washing her hair, applying all sorts of goops and lotions, and performing other mysterious female rituals. They won't be seeing her any time soon.

He takes a breath he doesn't need. "Jack, how did you get here?"

"Hitched a ride on one of the lifepods."

_Damn it, this is no time for jokes!_ Only... Jack's face is perfectly calm and serious. "They all launched before we finished settin' the power dampers."

"Yeah. Right after I set my last damper, I started to smell the alpha-dicadmolene. Not good news, that stuff. I decided that a prompt exit would be best for my health." He holds up his right arm and taps a finger against his vortex manipulator. "So I took the direct route."

He never knew that it was possible to be chilled with fear and hot with anger at the same time. "You used that... gimcrack toy to teleport between two moving ships? Without coordinates? Do you know what would've happened if you'd missed?"

"I know," Jack says quietly. "I decided it was better to take the chance." _Right_. The possibility of a quick death versus the certainty of a slow and painful one. "It wasn't as if I had a lot of choices." He ticks off an invisible list with his forefinger. "I couldn't run. Couldn't teleport into the TARDIS. I thought about teleporting _near _the TARDIS, but you said that artron energy deflects a teleport. I didn't want to wind up in the engine room -- or on the wrong side of the hull." He pauses. "And I knew that you weren't coming for me."

The heat and the chill drain out of his body, leaving only numbness. He can't deny it. Jack knows what choice he made. What can he say? _Sorry I left you to die. No hard feelings, right? _The silence between them is almost tangible. _Say somethin'. Yell. Call me a bastard. Take a swing at me._

"I don't think I could forgive you--" _No surprise there._ "--if you'd come for me and left Rose to die."

Looking into Jack's eyes, he remembers that sapphire was once used to make surgical knives. _Sharp, an' nearly as hard as diamond._

"She's so young, and she's hardly lived," Jack says. "Did she even travel outside England before she met you?"

"School trip to France," he replies, "an' a holiday in Wales." _Where is he goin' with this?_

Jack nods. "I've been around. Seen lots of places, done lots of things." There's a sharp edge to his smile. "Had lots of things done to me."

_You're still young, Captain. So very young._ "An' your point is?"

"I've had more than my fair share of close calls and miraculous rescues," Jack says evenly. "Got pulled off a ticking time-bomb of a ship by a guy who had every reason to leave me in my own sorry mess. And ever since then, it's been one hell of a ride." Jack takes in a deep breath. "Do you know what I thought, just before I made the jump to the lifepod?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "I thought, 'Whatever else happens, Rose is safe,' because I _knew_ that you were going to take care of her. I knew it for a fact, the way I know the value of _e_ and the atomic number of feynmanium."

He doesn't glance away. A few centuries ago, he might have done. His fourth and fifth incarnations had worn self-deception like a suit of armour. The War changed that. Over and over again, he looked into horror and destruction and saw his own face reflected there. What he sees now in Jack's eyes is much more frightening: neither the anger and condemnation he was expecting, nor the forgiveness he doesn't deserve. What he sees in Jack's eyes is unshakable trust and love that tosses aside forgiveness as unnecessary. It scares him worse than a Dalek battle fleet. He might have a chance against the Daleks.

What can he possibly say? He leans with deliberate casualness against a coral strut. "Where'd you get that outfit, Captain Jack Flash? Ugliest thing I've seen since the zoot suit."

Jack gestures at the black-and-silver skinsuit. "This? Borrowed it from a friend of a friend of a friend. My other clothes--"

"You puked all over them." It's not much of a guess. Even a mild dose of alpha-dicadmolene causes nausea. Add in the effect of teleportation on a human's inner ear, and the result is predictable. He frowns at the skinsuit. "Puke might improve the look of that."

"I think the fit flatters me. Emphasises all of my... attributes," Jack purrs in a tone of exaggerated seductiveness.

He forces a dry laugh. "You feelin' insecure about your attributes, Jack?"

"Very," Jack agrees solemnly. He closes the distance between them in three long strides. "Maybe you should reassure me."

_Bloody hell. _The lad's good-hearted, and means well, but even Jack's powers of seduction aren't enough to wipe away the guilt he feels. He starts to speak, then notices that Jack is standing still. Very still. He's waiting for the Doctor to make the first move. His shoulder muscles are taut, and his pupils aren't dilated. _This isn't like Jack_. Though he guards his heart carefully, he's always open and generous with his body, whether for comfort or for pleasure.

_'Cept this time, _he's_ the one needin' comfort._ _Doctor, you are a blind an' stupid old git. Ought to know by now what delayed shock looks like in a human._ "C'mere, Captain." He doesn't wait for a response, but pulls Jack into his arms. Jack tenses, and his whole body trembles violently. He gulps in air like a drowning man. The Doctor holds him. He doesn't rub the Captain's back, or murmur soothing words. He's rubbish at soothing words, and he doesn't think Jack is listening to anything, except maybe his own staccato gasps. He holds Jack firmly. Implacably. He will hold him all night, if needs must, and through the day. He will hold him until they both turn into trees and sink their roots deep into the deck of the TARDIS.

After three minutes and twelve seconds, Jack's breathing becomes calmer, his single heartbeat slower. Twenty-nine seconds later, he leans back in the Doctor's grip, just far enough apart that they can see each other's face clearly. "I was afraid I'd never see you or Rose again," he says in a quiet, even voice. "You couldn't know I survived, so you'd have no reason to search for me. I hoped you'd come to Gahui Station to check up on the Ikridu, but I wasn't sure. Figured I'd wait three days, then I'd head out, try to find the TARDIS."

_Today's the third day. Oh, Jack..._

"The reason I was in that cafe?" Jack continues. "I was waiting to meet a Tuleg freighter captain who was hiring for a one-way run to Kaessen. As soon as he showed up, I would've gone on board. The freighter was scheduled to take off at 19:00, station time."

Something cold stabs through his hearts. The TARDIS had materialised at 18:12. If he'd landed a bit later... if he'd remained inside to watch over Rose... _If, if, if._ You could drive yourself mad speculating about potential branches in the timelines; there are several recorded cases of Time Lords who'd done just that. "You are here on the TARDIS where you belong, Jack Harkness," he says firmly, and he's not sure if he's trying to reassure Jack or himself. He leans forward and kisses Jack. It's not a tender kiss; it's hard, demanding, and possessive, and Jack responds with equal urgency.

"Oi! Starting without me?" Rose sounds more amused than annoyed. She walks into the Console Room, bringing with her the scent of hibiscus shampoo, Pears soap, and freshly laundered clothes.

They pull apart and turn to look at her. She wrinkles her forehead, apparently seeing something other than lust on their faces. "What's the matter? You two look like a month of wet Sundays." She adds, "We ought to be celebrating -- everybody lived."

"Everybody lived," he echoes. He glances at Jack. _We've got to tell her. _"Yeah, but it was a near thing. Nearer than you know."

At Jack's suggestion, they move to the vid lounge. _Good choice_. It's a place where they've spent many relaxing hours. This is the room where Rose snickered at _The Tragical History of Rekk and H'nagh_; where Jack was introduced to the real Mr. Spock ("Very sexy ears!"); the scene of many lively discussions, heated arguments, and popcorn fights. More than one impulsive shag has started in here -- and some have finished here, too. The overstuffed sofa is large, and the silk Tabriz carpet -- a gift from a Persian Vizier -- is very comfortable.

He's trying to decide how to begin when Rose blurts out, "You _lied_ to me, Doctor! You told me Jack was fine."

"I didn't want you to fret." He holds up a hand to hold off the retort that he knows is coming. "You were poisoned, Rose. Another ten minutes an' nothin' could've saved you. Even with the antidote, you were in a bad way. So, yeah, I lied to you, an' I'd do it again."

She nods grudgingly. "Tell me what happened."

He and Jack take turns explaining the events of the past two days. They keep it as short as possible. Jack sounds like the soldier he once was, reciting a mission report.

Rose presses her lips together tightly as she listens. When the whole tale is told, she stares at the floor for thirty-nine seconds before speaking. "You left Jack behind? On purpose?" she says slowly, the way she does when she's not sure the TARDIS translated something right.

"Yeah--"

"No," Jack says almost at the same time. "He saved you. On purpose."

"'S the same thing!"

"No, it isn't," Jack replies. He leans towards her; takes the hand nearest him and clasps it between his own. "Rose, I've been in the position of having to chose who to save. People I'd known for years, who were closer to me than blood family. It's the hardest--" His gaze flickers towards the Doctor. "--_one_ of the hardest decisions anyone can face."

_Thank you, Captain._ He's such a coward, letting Jack speak for him, but what can he say that won't sound like a piss-poor excuse?

Rose looks steadily at him. "If you'd given me the antidote, then run to where Jack was--" It's a question.

"I'd have got back to the TARDIS with his dead body." He takes two seconds to review his calculations. "About a half minute before the ship blew up. Probably."

She considers this. "And you didn't know Jack was alive until you saw him in the cafe." This isn't a question. She's talking aloud to herself, so he just nods. Emotions flit across her face like clouds on a windy day: bewilderment, anger, fear, sorrow. Rose pulls her hand free from Jack's and jumps to her feet, turning to face them both. "Don't you ever lie to me again. Neither one of you." She jabs a finger in the Captain's face. "You did it, too, Jack Harkness. The Doctor lied with words and you lied with silence. 'S just as bad."

If Jack's surprised to find himself under attack, he hides it well. "Yeah, it is. Forgive me?"

"An' me?" The words slip out more easily than he expected.

She gives them her best Jackie Tyler glare. "I'll think about it. Promise you won't do that again."

He winces. "Don't like to make promises, me. 'Specially ones with 'never' or 'always' in them. If a lie will keep you or Jack safe, I won't hesitate, an' I won't apologise." He pauses, wanting to get the words right. "I won't lie if it's just to keep from hurtin' your feelings." Beside him, Jack murmurs agreement. "That all right?"

Her glare fades to a frown. "I s'pose." Then her smile breaks out -- bright, and merry, and just a little bit wicked. "Course, it would help if I got a proper apology."

"An' just what might that be, Rose Tyler?"

Her smile widens into a grin. "I expect you two clever blokes can think of something."

And they do.

Much later, he gently pulls free of the tangle of limbs. He rises, crosses to the far side of the room, and removes three bottles from the small fridge. On his return. he pauses to admire the scene. His two lovers are sprawled on the carpet, bare skin highlighted against the jewel tones of the ancient silk. Rose is lying on her back, her head pillowed on Jack's thigh. His eyes are half-closed, like a dozing cat, and one hand rests loosely on her left breast. They make a lovely picture, his two humans. He'd paint them if he still had the artistic skills of his previous incarnation. Instead, he fixes this moment in his mind. The bright corona of Rose's hair swirling around her face... the strong lines of Jack's features... the sheen of perspiration, and the musky scent of humans after sex.

_I almost lost them today_. He _will_ lose them someday, in one way or another. He always does. But right now he has them -- he has this moment, this memory to hold in his hearts. It will have to be enough.

He sets the bottles on a red lacquer table beside the sofa. At the sound, Rose turns her head. Jack opens his eyes. "Teraillian dew-wine?" he asks hopefully.

"Yeah. From 6257."

"A good year," Jack replies, "but right now I have a taste for an older vintage."

Rose grins. "Much older." Laughing, the two humans reach for him, and he allows himself to be pulled down into their embrace.

\-- THE END --


End file.
